Regular Addictions
by MercernaryGirl13
Summary: Pops saw Benson doing drugs and drinking. Rigby saw Benson with a knife. Mordecai saw the blood Benson spilled. Benson tried to slowly kill himself with drugs, now he's gone crazy, and he's taking Mordecai for the ride.  rated T for gore and language
1. Jar of Hearts

Smoke surrounded the office, almost like it was supposed to be there. Pops cautiously stepped inside, whimpering at the godawful smell of tabacco and alcohol.  
>"What!"<br>Pops jumped suddenly at Benson's pissed off tone. Something seemed off about his voice though. Sort of pitch strained and slurring. Had he been yelling for no reason?  
>"Well?"<br>Pops was again, surprised by the suddenness of Benson's harsh snappy phrases.  
>"Nothing much my good man. I have only come to ask of you where all the towels have gone."<br>"Blah blah blah your needs! Where's my friends? That's right! I don't have any! No one likes a short tempered, hot-headed, screaming gumball machine! All I do is sit here alone rotting myself from the inside out, drinking my anger and sorrows away like it's nothing!"  
>Benson was screaming again, but Pops hadn't known it was because of the alcohol. Benson took a drag of his cigarette and swallowed a mouthful of beer. Pops couldn't understand what it was, and if he did, he would have enough common sense to tell him to stop. Pops hadn't realized Benson was slowly trying to kill himself by doing this. Attempting to get cancer, hoping to die in a drunk accident, trying to take overdoses in hopes it would do something. Only thing was, since he was a gumball machine he couldnt die. Benson just wanted the pain to go away.<br>"Benson, are you ok?"  
>"Fantastic! Just FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC!"<br>"Benson! Please watch your language."  
>"Make me!"<br>Benson harshly swiveled his chair to face the wall and gripe about his problems to the only thing that would listen. Pops looked upset, Benson was never this mean to him. Pops began to get suspicious about what Benson was drinking. Pops was brought out of his thinking by Benson's heavy sobs. Pops dared to walk closer to the desk.  
>"Down the hall to the right..."<br>Pops was surprised for the ump-teenth time by Benson. He went from screaming to talking softly. Pops was uneasy being around Benson like this. No, scratch that, he was scared. Benson was never like this, and the sudden change made Pops afraid to be around him. Pops took the action to leave and search for the towels. Benson sobbed louder, hearing that Pops had left. He did the strangest thing ever. Benson smiled lightly, still sobbing, though the sobbing evolved into crazed laughter. Benson shrieked with laughter, holding his throbbing metal gut from it. He clenched his bottle of beer tighter and threw it across the room and into the wall. It formed a small dent and the bottle exploded with beer splattering everywhere. Benson's crazed laughter died down a little. He still laughed, but tears still slid down his face.  
>"What's wrong with me...?"<br>Benson dropped to his knees. He just wanted to scream his lungs out. Why did it hurt so much? Benson's face contorted with frustration. Benson swore at the top of his lungs.  
>"I'm going to get rid of my problems..."<br>Benson stood and stumbled to his desk. He yanked a secret drawer open and let the wood slam to the ground and crush open to reveal a small pistol.  
>"...and no one is going to stop me."<br>Benson had lots of problems he couldn't stand, but only one stood out the most.  
>"I'm coming for ya...you bitch."<p>

Benson hissed angrily. He always hated the way his metallic heart throbbed over the most snobbiest, self-centered, bitch he'd ever known. He hated the way he loved her. He did everything for her. He wrote songs about her, gave her gifts, he devoted half his hard earned money on that bitch! What did she do? Oh, you'll never guess what she did! She ripped up his songs, wasted his money, bitched about how Benson didn't treat her right. As Benson had watched her tear up the song he wrote for her, he felt an ounce of his heart get ripped up and stomped into the dirt beneath the feet of the woman he absolutely worshipped. She was like a god to him. He worshipped the very ground she walked on, now he wouldn't even spit in her direction. He hated the feelings he had toward her. He wanted to be rid of it! There was only one way to rid his feelings for her. To be rid of her. Benson smiled giddily, grabbing a knife from the drawer, and a jar from the cupboards. He laughed maniacally. Rigby stepped into the kitchen to see what the commotion was. He normally wasn't awake at this time, but he was hungry and he heard noise. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Benson. Benson was still laughing and searching the drawers for his car keys. Rigby stood, still as a statue while the scene played before him. Benson startled Rigby by yanking out the drawer and throwing across the floor.  
>BANG!<br>Rigby jumped and shivered at the noise. Benson held up the knife and laughed again. Rigby saw Benson's glazed over eyes catch sight of him and he quickly hid. Benson stomped past his hiding spot.  
>"Be afraid Rigby...you could be next..."<br>Rigby shivered at Benson's harsh words. Venom lacing every word. Benson slipped into his car and drove away.

Veronica sighed. She laid back on her bed and let her hair out of her ponytail. Maybe she shouldn't have jogged. She did have stilletos on. Her feet were killing her. She kicked them off, not caring whether or not they busted a hole in the wall or anything. She needed rest. Her eyes slipped closed. The house she had been in was a fancy place with nice things. Expensive, nice things. Veronica loved the way she lived. She had much much more money. That was probably the only thing she thought about now. She didn't really like the guys she was with, but she just wanted the money they owned. Preferably a sick, diseased man who would die a few months after they got together. Veronica smiled. It was good to be her.  
>CRASH!<br>Veronica shot up, heart racing. It sounded like something broke. Veronica was afraid. What had that been? What caused it? Afraid, but curious, she steadily made her way downstairs. She picked up a bat along the way.  
>BANG!<br>Veronica suppressed a squeak of shock. She quickly hid behind a wall, sweat beading on her glass dome. In. Out. In. Out. Somehow she had to keep reminding herself how to breathe. In. Out. I-in. Ou-how did it go again? Veronica practically forgot how to breathe. That's when she heard the scariest thing to ever hear in a dark house home alone. Footsteps.  
>Thud...thud...thud...<br>Veronica's heart stopped. She breathed heavily.  
>In out in out in out dammit why is it so hard to breathe!<br>Veronica calmed herself down and convinced herself it was just her vivid imagination. The footsteps were heard once more. Veronica's heart jumped to her throat. Damn, it wasn't her imagination.  
>"Come out, come out sweetheart. Don't be afraid."<br>Veronica believed it to be the voice of her boyfriend. She sighed a heavy sigh of relief and stepped into the open. Big mistake. She gasped in horror. There, standing in the hall with a knife and a jar, was none other than Benson. Veronica gasped.  
>"Benson, what are you doing here?"<br>Benson held a ghastly smile, only made scarier by the dim lighting.  
>"who do you think you are,"<br>Veronica was taken aback by the question.  
>"runnin 'round leaving scars,"<br>Now Veronica was confused.  
>"collecting your jar of hearts,"<br>Now Veronica remembered. It was a song she remembered, "Jar of Hearts". She always enjoyed that song. It was cute. Even through the memories of the countless times she listened and even sang it, the voice of Benson cutting into her memories. He was singing it, but in a strangely calm voice. When he said "jar of hearts" he said it; emphasizing it. Veronica felt the stab of Benson's icy tone. Why was it so cold? Maybe it was the air conditioner that had been turned on? Maybe someone slipped ice into her clothes. No, it was Benson. He made her blood run cold. The sheer terror of seeing her ex-boyfriend in her hallway with a knife made her terrified. She gulped and took a step back. Benson took one forward.  
>"And who do you think you are,"<br>Veronica gulped and bumped into a wall. She looked frantically left and right, desperately trying to find an escape. There was none.  
>"Runnin 'round leaving scars,"<br>Veronica's fear was undescribeable. She was so afraid it would be impossible to explain it. Benson stepped so close, close enough his nose nearly touched Veronica's. The knife hovered between them, aimed directly at Veronica's chest. Tears slipped from Veronica's eyes.  
>"Collecting your jar of-HEARTS!"<br>With the word hearts, he thrust the knife into Veronica's chest. Veronica tried to scream, but found herself unable to. All she did was sob and try to keep breathing. Blood ran down her shirt. Benson slowly cut into her chest, making a hole, large enough for his hand. Benson grinned wickedly. Veronica was slumping to the ground, slowly numbing, feeling her life fade. Benson rammed his hand into her chest. More tears flowed from Veronica. Benson clenched his fist and yanked his hand back out, letting her blood shower him. Benson held a lump of flesh in his hand and showed it to Veronica. Veronica's eyes widened, not at the fact of what Benson held in his hand, but she smelled alcohol. She smelled alcohol on Benson's breath. Veronica realized Benson was drunk. The real Benson wouldn't have the balls to do this. Benson would have never come if he were sober. Then again, Benson never would have tasted alcohol if Veronica stayed with him. He was the happiest guy ever when he was with her. He never wanted a drop of alcohol when he was with her. Veronica wouldn't be here, on the ground, bleeding out, if she stayed with him. Veronica sobbed, she felt nothing but pain. Benson laughed at her pain. Benson took the flesh and placed it in the jar. Benson set the jar down on the ground, kneeling in her blood. Veronica looked through her blurry vision to see Benson smiling evilly. Benson waved goodbye to her.  
>"Who did you think you were,"<br>Veronica's eyes glazed over. The tears stopped. The noise stopped. Veronica's heart beat a few more times, splurging blood. Benson ran a few fingers through her blood. He ran his fingers over the jar, but in patterns, forming letters. Benson smiled, finishing his dirty work. Benson set the jar beside Veronica's still corpse. Benson left the knife beside the jar. Before Benson left, he spit on Veronica.  
>Later, Veronica's boyfriend came home. He discovered the place was a wreck. He roamed the halls, until one caught his attention. He slipped in a puddle. He was about to complain about Veronica spilling something, but he saw her. He saw her slumped against the wall, eyes half open, blood staining her clothes and a hole in her chest. Beside Veronica was a jar. The boyfriend looked inside the jar and screamed. The jar had been labeled in bloody lettering. It spelled VERONICA.<br>but it wasn't the blood that scared him. It was the flesh inside the jar.  
>Inside the jar was Veronica's heart.<p>

Benson stepped into the park house. He wasn't thinking straight. On the way home, he sobered up a little, wondering vaguely why he had been covered in blood. He closed the door behind him, feeling a hangover begin. He walked to the stairs, hoping no one would see him like this.  
>"Benson?"<br>Benson stiffened. Mordecai's voice. Crap! Mordecai rested a hand on Benson's shoulder. Benson suddenly felt the rush of memories come back. He did it. He killed Veronica.  
>"Benson, what are you covered in?"<br>Benson felt the tears sting at his eyes.  
>"Is that...no...it can't be..."<br>Benson sobbed. He hoped Mordecai wouldn't hear him. Mordecai realized what Benson had all over him. Benson suddenly exploded in tears. He turned around and hugged Mordecai close to him. Mordecai was shocked.  
>"What have I done?"<br>Mordecai hugged Benson tightly, he was a little bothered since Benson was getting blood all over his feathers, but he had to comfort Benson. He was worried about him. Benson sobbed louder.  
>"What's wrong with me!"<br>"What did you do?"  
>Benson tried to muffle his sobs by burying his face into Mordecai's chest.<br>"I kimph ferkonica."  
>"What?"<br>"I kimph ferkonica!"  
>"What?"<br>"I SAID I KILLED VERONICA!"  
>Mordecai gave Benson a strange look. Benson didn't see it, because after he exploded, he buried his face back into Mordecai's chest. Mordecai's eyes widened. Benson, his boss, killed someone. No, he would never do that. Benson was all bark and no bite. Someone or something made Benson do it. HFG isn't mean enough to posses anyone. Pops, no. Skips, maybe. Muscle Man? Psh, yeah right. Rigby? Nah. No one did it. Maybe it was something then. Mordecai had a hard time figuring it out. He'd figure it out later. Benson looked into Mordecai's eyes.<br>"Don't tell, please..."  
>Mordecai was at a loss for words. He was going to be entrusted with the biggest secret of his life. He had to keep a murder a secret? Damn! Benson was glad it was Mordecai. He was almost the least likely to tell. His mouth would stay sealed. Besides, Mordecai was the least likely to blackmail Benson with this secret.<br>"Promise me, Mordecai...swear on your life you won't tell?"  
>Mordecai gulped. Was he able to be trusted? Would he keep this secret? Would he slip up? So many 'IFs' floated in his mind. Mordecai opened his beak to answer.<br>"I promise."  
>What had he just done?<p> 


	2. Shock

This is bad. Really bad. Mordecai wasn't meant to keep secrets like these. He was more qualified for smaller secrets like keeping a relationship like a popular person and a total nerd. Or someone isn't wearing underwear today. He wasn't meant for keeping a MURDER secret. Every time he heard someones voice, he half-expected them to ask about Veronica. Veronica Veronica Veronica. Mordecai got so scared one time he thought he was gonna throw up. He was sick to his stomach. He was losing sleep. Probably not as worried as Benson was. Benson had been taking more drugs and alcohol since that day. He didn't get any better as time went on. Benson rarely ever slept, he barely ate, and he could hardly work. Mordecai saw him twice a day to comfort him. Only thing was, Mordecai didn't find much comfort being in the room with a murderer. One day Mordecai was going to see Benson and Rigby stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

"To...to...the coffee shop! Yeah, the coffee shop."

"Well, the coffee shop is that way."

"Oh, hehe."

"Geez, You're not sleeping well. Guess it's taking a toll on ya."

"Maybe..."

Mordecai sighed. This secret was killing him. He had to find relief. Mordecai swore on his life though, and he was determined to take this secret to the grave. No one would be able to break him. Nothing would make him slip. Rigby smiled up at him.

"Let's go."

"Where?"

"coffee shop! I'm sure Benson won't mind."

'Of course he will! I'm supposed to be up there in a minute to let him know I'm okay!'

"Oh, sure dude, let's go."

Stupid Mordecai. He should have declined the offer, but he made a lie he was already going there. Now he had to follow through. He looked back at the window of Benson's office.

I'm dead. I'm gonna be caught. I'm gonna go to jail. I'm gonna get prison raped! That was the worst part of jail, some inmates raped other inmates. Benson shuddered at the very thought of prison. Especially the thought of rape and prison inmate put together. Benson took another drag of his 7th cigarette for the hour. Benson knew smoking wouldn't kill him, he didn't have lungs. Benson could smoke till the cows come home, as long as he cleaned out a certain part of his body every month, or, where his lungs were SUPPOSED to be. Although he had no lungs, he had a heart. A real heart. It was real to him, even though it was a metal heart, it still gushes blood. Benson actually hoped these addictions would kill him. He was a murderer now! Who wants to go to prison? Who wants the capitol punishment. Plus Benson felt terrible for dragging Mordecai into his crazy world. Now he had to stick with it, or find a way out. It was like this. If Benson had been stuck to the wall with super glue, Mordecai tried to save him, but ended up also getting stuck. Mordecai would have to get someone to cut him out of the wall if he wanted to be rescued. They would leave Benson to die. Death seemed to be the only thing on his mind. Death always reminded him of murder, which made him keep thinking about murder. He felt like such a criminal! What sort of animal had he become? Now Benson began worrying. Mordecai wasn't here. Did the police get him? Did he slip up? What happened? Mordecai was the only person keeping Benson from going totally insane. The only thing that subsided him was the addictions. Benson felt his thoughts become hazy. He had to drink more. Yes! That's it. Drink more, think less. Less thinking, less worrying. Oh man, what was wrong with him. Even with every time his thoughts faded into the oblivion of his buzz, the thought "What's wrong with me?" always came up. Benson felt his tears falling. They made marks on the paper he was supposed to be filling out for work. Benson laid his head down, hoping that if anyone came in, they would think he was resting. Benson looked at his paper, realizing the newspaper beneath it. Benson thought of it as a good idea to 'read' the newspaper. At least it would hide his face. Benson snapped it open and began 'reading'. Benson's eyes widened at a picture in the paper. It was a picture of Veronica. Benson gulped and read the article.

"Veronica, died at age 28 from a murderer who broke into her house July 19, 2011. Her boyfriend, a policeman named Sean Janson, vowed to find her murderer. Even if it took him the rest of his life."

Benson became nervous at the last statement. Where was Mordecai when he needed him? Benson wasn't at all content. Not an ounce of happiness in him! No other emotion but fear.

Mordecai practically fell asleep while waiting for a cup of coffee. Rigby shook him a few times before he woke up.

"Ung...huh-wha...?"

"C'mon dude! What's with you?"

"I'm tired dude! I haven't been sleeping well!"

"Well why then?"

"Because I-...I...I d-don't know."

"You're a bad lier..."

"I don't know dude! Shut up!"

"No you shut up!"

Mordecai took a swing at Rigby and punched his arm as hard as he could. Rigby yelled in pain. Mordecai nearly broke Rigby's arm. With that, Rigby immediately shut up, and Mordecai burst into many frantic "I'm sorry"s and tried to make up for it by embarrassing himself. Rigby looked at Mordecai with fear. First Benson was acting weird, now Mordecai. Benson was probably crazy by this point, and now, he was taking Mordecai with him. Mordecai always got mad at certain things, but this wasn't one of them. Mordecai never got this mad over a question like Rigby's. Mordecai felt tears come. This secret was tearing him apart. That's when Margret came over, eyeliner and tears running down her face.

"Margret what's wrong?"

"I...ah, I'm f-fuh-fine...thanks Mordecai..."

"Don't lie, spill."

"Oh, fine...one of my friends died the other day and I'm upset. Happy?"

"Oh, wow Margret, that's terrible!"

"I know and the fact that she was murdered doesn't help."

Mordecai spewed out the coffee he had been drinking all over the table. MURDERED! No! Nononononooo! Who was her friend?

"W-wha-what was your fuh-friends name?"

"Veronica. Why? You know her?"

Veronica! Crap! Wasn't that the chick Benson said he murdered? Oh no, this is bad. He couldn't stand to see Margret like this. It made him feel terrible. It made him want to tell about the murder and make her feel better. Mordecai gulped and shuddered. The coffee burned his mouth and the arms he spewed it on. Mordecai yelled, blaming it on the hot coffee.

"I gotta go! Benson's gonna get pissed!"

"Why?"

"Uh, he asked me to do something and I totally forgot to do it!"

"Okay, suit yourself, I'll stay with Margret."

"And me!"

Eilene butted into the conversation. Rigby groaned. Not Eilene. Mordecai already rushed outside and sprinted back to the park, completely forgetting about the cart. Oh well, he had to leave it so Rigby could get back. Mordecai sprinted past Pops, nearly knocking him over, but Skips caught his fall. Mordecai rushed through the house, practically tripping over each stair, using the beam to balance himself out. He ran down the hall, skidding to a halt in front of Benson's door. He threw it open and slammed it closed behind him. His sudden entrance frightened Benson and he screamed. Mordecai also screamed. Mordecai and Benson screamed at each other till they finally calmed down.

"GODDAMMIT MORDECAI YOU FUCKING SCARED ME!"

"WELL IM FUCKING SORRY! I HAD MY FAIR SHARE OF TERROR ALREADY!"

"Ugh, I'm sorry, what is it. You okay?"

"Fine, fine, just the fact that I found out Margret was close friends with Veronica."

"The Veronica I killed?"

"Yes, the one you killed!"

Benson shuddered. He wasn't going to go to jail. He won't go to jail! He took another swig of his beer. Mordecai spotted it.

"Benson! Are you drinking again?"

"Yeah what of it!"

"It's not good for you!"

"I don't give a FLYING FUCK!"

"GODDAMMIT Benson put down the beer!"

"Who's gonna make me asshole!"

"Me! Now quit being a dick and put it down before you do something even stupider!"

"Never!"

Benson grabbed the knife and pointed it at his chest.

"BENSON GIVE ME THAT KNIFE!"

"NO! IM NOT GOING TO PRISON!"

"BENSON PUT THE GODDAMN KNIFE DOWN!"

"MAKE ME!"

Benson screamed at Mordecai, ready to end it, but Mordecai let out a battle cry and lunged at Benson. He held Benson to the ground and the knife slipped out of Benson's hand. Problem was, it didn't go far. Benson kneed Mordecai in the crotch. Mordecai cried out in pain and Benson sat on top of Mordecai, the knife held above his head with one hand and the other hand choking Mordecai. Mordecai's eyes went wide in horror. He tried to yell but Benson's hand restricted him from doing so. Benson wasn't this strong. Mordecai realized that when he attempted to remove Benson's hand from his throat. Mordecai thanked God he could hold his breath longer than most people. Benson swung the knife down.

"BENSON!"

Benson's eyes widened.

THUNK!

Mordecai felt a sharp pain stab through his left hand. Benson gaped in horror at what he had done. He swung the knife at Mordecai, but Mordecai had enough breath left to scream out Benson's name. Benson missed Mordecai's chest and the knife fully went through Mordecai's left hand and stuck into the floor.

"I...agh-...I told ya..."

Mordecai choked out his words, still recovering from having his throat squeezed. Benson started crying.

"What's wrong with me..."

Benson sobbed, placing his head in his hands. Mordecai yanked the knife out of his hand, wincing in pain. Benson stood up and turned around, furious at himself. Mordecai wobbled, and struggled to stand and keep balance. Mordecai stumbled over to Benson, gently wrapping his wings around Benson.

"It's okay Benson, I'm alright."

Benson turned around and wrapped his arms around Mordecai sobbing so many loud "I'm sorry"s into his chest. Mordecai rubbed Benson's back and gently whispered words of comfort, but nothing brought comfort to Benson, knowing he hurt Mordecai.

"What is wrong with me?"

Mordecai and Benson had gotten used to hugging each other for comfort after the first few days, seeing as that was the way they both felt the most comfortable. Benson's crying subsided. Mordecai smiled. Benson thanked Mordecai a million times. Mordecai saw it was night time. He looked in awe. How long was he in the office anyway? Oh well, it didn't matter.

"Hey Mordecai..."

"What's up dude?"

"As childish as this sounds...can you sleep over at my apartment?"

Mordecai inwardly giggled. It was so cute how Benson was asking. Almost like a little kid. Hard to believe he was a murderer.

"Sure Benny."

Benson smiled a little. He kinda liked the nickname. Benny. Benny. He could get used to that. Almost like his dad used to call him.

Mordecai kind of enjoyed Benson's apartment. He felt a little comfortable because he could talk about the murder freely and not worry about spilling the secret to people who weren't supposed to hear. Still, they had to be cautious. Just in case. Benson explained he only had a double bed and offered many times to sleep on the couch, but Mordecai wouldn't have it. They ended up sharing the double bed. At first it was awkward, but they got used to it.

"Goodnight Mordecai."

"Goodnight Benson."

Benson turned out the light.

"Hey Mordecai."

"Yeah Benson."

"Can you sing me a song?"

"Um, sure, what song."

"Th-the sunshine song."

"That song? I guess it wouldn't hurt. Okay."

Benson snuggled down in the bed and listened as Mordecai's silky smooth voice filled the room.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

Benson smiled and snuggled up to Mordecai. Mordecai wrapped a wing around Benson's sleeping form and fell asleep beside him.

THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER WAS WAAAAY TOO CUTE! NOO!


	3. Seperating

BANG!

Benson jerked awake at the sound of breaking wood. More noise followed. Benson looked beside him. Mordecai wasn't there. Then what on Earth was Mordecai doing to his apartment? Benson groggily stood and stumbled to the door. He threw it open, nearly knocking it off the hinges.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Suddenly, a drawer whizzed past his face and slammed into the wall. Benson looked to the kitchen where the drawer came from. Benson was about to yell at Mordecai for doing that, but he stopped himself when he saw Mordecai over the sink.

"MORDECAI!"

Mordecai looked to Benson. He had been stuffing all Benson's drugs and pouring all his alcohol into the drain.

"MORDECAI NO!"

"Benson! You can't do this to yourself!"

"Don't do that!"

"I can't let it happen again!"

With that, Mordecai flipped the switch and grinding noises followed. Benson dropped to the floor, hanging his head in shame. He thought about the murder, and when he stabbed Mordecai's hand. Wait...he stabbed Mordecai's hand! They forgot to bandage it up. What if it was infected? No!

"Benson, if you keep this up you could hurt someone else. Maybe this time, someone closer to you."

Benson's eyes welled up with tears.

"But Mordecai...your the closest friend I have. Maybe even the only friend. I don't have family...no parents, no siblings, nothing. Your the person I hold the closest to me."

Mordecai's heart broke. Benson didn't have any friends? Mordecai would've hoped Benson had at least one friend, but no. Benson tried to hide his tears. Benson had shown enough tears to Mordecai. Benson wanted to be strong. He wanted the strength to stand, the strength to move on. Mordecai stooped to his level, rubbing his back.

"Please don't cry Benson...I'll do anything. I'll clean the whole apartment, I'll make you breakfast and coffee, I'll do all my work, just please don't cry."

Benson strained to hold in his tears.

"Your hand Mordecai...the first aid kit in my bathroom under the sink. Please get it."

"Screw my hand. It's fine!"

"Mordecai, it could be infected! Stop being stubborn!"

"Oh, so I'm the stubborn one?"

"Just go get it!"

"No!"

"What will it take?"

"Nothing!"

"GODDAMMIT Mordecai if you don't get it, I...Will...Break...That...HAND!"

"I'm calling out your bluff."

Benson suddenly grabbed Mordecai's hand, ramming his thumb into the wound. Mordecai gasped in pain and fell to the ground.

"NOW WHO'S BLUFFING GODDAMMIT?"

"B-Benson...you're hurting me..."

"SO NOW YOU SUCK UP TO ME? I WON'T HAVE IT!"

Benson pushed his thumb deeper until it came out the other end. Benson twisted Mordecai's hand until he heard a snap. Mordecai cried out.

"Benson...STOP! PLEASE!"

Benson felt empty. No emotion. His acts of violence were starting to happen, even without the help of the drugs and alcohol. Benson yanked his hands away from Mordecai like they were made of fire. Benson stared an emotionless stare at his hands. Benson rushed to the bedroom and dropped to his knees. He reached under the bed and retrieved his pistol. Benson heard Mordecai come to the doorway and Benson aimed his gun at him.

"Woah, Benson! What are you doing with that gun?"

Benson refused to speak.

"Benson put down the gun."

Benson pulled the trigger and shot randomly to make Mordecai move. Benson rushed out the door, and didn't look back. Benson didn't realize he shot Mordecai in the stomach. Mordecai winced in pain and slumped to the ground, cradling his bleeding arm and stomach. Mordecai rose once again, thinking about what happened. He sat down at the kitchen table, retrieved tweezers, and attempted to get the bullet out before going to the hospital. If Mordecai went to the hospital with the bullet still inside of him, they would trace it to who shot it at him and they would catch Benson and the secret would be ruined. No matter how Benson acted towards him, he wasn't going to tell. Mordecai groaned. Why was he so nice? Look at what the 'nice' trait was getting him into. At least he wasn't a blackmailer. After ten minutes of painful probing, he finally retrieved the bullet.

"Argh, for a small thing like you, you sure sting like a bitch."

Mordecai sighed. He tossed the bullet the other way. Mordecai looked everywhere for gauze to wrap up his injuries. While searching, he found a few drugs he hadn't seen before. Mordecai inspected them, especially the label. Mordecai stared long and hard at the brand. What kind of brand was that? It said "Sack o Satan" and on the side it said "So enjoyable, it's almost a sin".

"Maybe that's why Benson keeps using these."

Mordecai stared with curiosity. Did they really taste that good. Mordecai grabbed a small portion of the weed and sat at the table. He stared at it for at least an hour. Why was he being such a chicken? Mordecai picked up a small crumb size piece of weed and looked at it up close. Mordecai felt sick to his stomach. He ended up throwing it away. He left the rest on the table and stared for a few more minutes. Mordecai finally decided to try a small bit. He was about to put the piece in his mouth, when Benson came through the door. Benson caught sight of Mordecai about to put the weed in his mouth.

"MORDECAI NO!"

Mordecai yelled in surprise and dropped the weed. Benson stormed over to the table.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH THAT?"

"N-nothing Benson, I...I was just...curious."

"Well curiosity killed the bluejay."

Mordecai shuddered at the saying. What was with Benson? First he breaks Mordecai's wrist and shoots him in the stomach and then comes back and stops him from tasting his weed. Jeez! If Mordecai was going to be in this whole ordeal because of the drugs and alcohol Benson was using, he may as well try it. Benson could at least share a few small pieces. What the heck!

"Where did you find that anyway, I thought you disposed of the rest?"

"I thought I did, but I found some in the closet."

"Dammit, I gotta hide it better..."

Benson muttered angered words of disgust. He was mostly complaining about how he should have hid it better. Mordecai tried to get up, completely forgetting the gunshot wound in his stomach. As soon as he stood up, he fell to the ground and tried to catch himself with his bad hand. Mordecai winced as the pain shot through his arm and his stomach throbbed violently. Benson gasped.

"Mordecai, what happened to your stomach?"

Mordecai was frustrated. Very frustrated. Benson was so two faced now! Mordecai had so much stress and frustration built up, it was overflowing.

"You happened..."

"What?"

"You shot me! You broke my wrist, you stabbed my hand, you ruined my life!"

Benson was taken aback by this statement.

"Mordecai...I'm sorry. I'm so-"

"Save your breath Benson. I need time away from you."

Benson tried so hard not to cry. It was harder to watch Mordecai leave. Mordecai limped to the doorway.

"Goodbye Benson."

As soon as Mordecai left Benson broke down. Benson curled in a ball on the floor and was like that for hours on end. Benson's eyes were bloodshot by the time his tears slowed down. Benson felt like the little bit left of his heart had disintegrated and blew away in the wind with Mordecai.


	4. Reunion

Where's Benson? Have you seen Benson? Benson's gone, you seen him? That was pretty much the only thing that came out of everyones mouth ever since Mordecai left Benson. Benson never came back to work. Mordecai felt guilty. He probably shouldn't have left Benson. Maybe he was being too rash. Mordecai totally forgot about going to the hospital. He sloppily bandaged himself up in place of actual equipment that could really heal him. In truth, Mordecai hated hospitals, and it scared him. He just didn't want anyone coming up to him and telling him he was going to die or be in severe pain for a few years or something worse. Everyone was worried about his health. Mordecai hadn't realized his lessened and ever lessening strength. Skips and Pops begged him to go to the hospital, but Mordecai continually refused. Mordecai didn't want to go to the hospital. He didn't want to be told any bad things. He didn't want to know anything anymore. Knowing less meant less pain. Less stress. Less frustration at the things you know you cannot change, at the things you wish you could fix. All the things gone wrong, the memories stored in slate. sticking solid to your memories, no intention of going away, adding more frustration until you want to explode. Mordecai felt all his frustration drain. Eventually Mordecai gave up and went to the hospital.

Benson still cried. Even after a whole week of Mordecai being gone, he was still crying. Benson wanted to vomit he cried so hard. Benson took his addictions to the extreme, smoking a cigarette a minute, drinking beer every few minutes, and going through drugs like it was food to be eaten on a regular basis. Benson was now officially borderline crazy. It's been that way since the only person keeping him sane left him. And even on top of the addictions, Benson was trying even harder to kill himself. He actually tried to hang himself, but he found he could still breathe. He tried to shoot himself, but it bounced off the metal of his torso. He even tried holding his breath till he ran out, but he couldn't hold it that long. Now Benson was upset at his failed suicides and now attempting to cut his wrists and bleed out. If this didn't work he was going to jump off the top of the building or try to get run over by a car. Benson stumbled over to the kitchen and retrieved a knife. Benson gently placed the blade to his wrist and slowly cut down, biting back a whimper of pain. He fully cut through both wrists and set the bloody blade down sloppily from lightheadedness. He slipped to the ground with a smile. It was working. He was gonna die. The pain was over. He let his eyes slip close and allowed the darkness to envelope him in it's comforting cold embrace.

Screaming filled every inch of hallway. Someone was screaming bloody murder. Benson's eyes slowly opened. His eyes opened to a nice white room with curtains and an open window. Benson blinked to clear his blurry vision. He looked to his side to be met with the familiar voices scream. It was definitely a male screaming, he could tell that much. He sat up to see his wrists bandaged and stitched up. Damn, next time he was going to try getting run over by a truck. Benson looked over to see Mordecai writhing on the bed in pain.

"I know it hurts. It's almost over."

Benson saw who it was. Mordecai. What was he doing here? Benson felt his heart warm and the void Mordecai left slowly filled. Benson felt terrible. What were they doing to him? Suddenly Mordecai's scream filled the room once more and an audible "SNAP!" was heard.

"Ah, there we go! Now I'll go get you the cast. Don't go anywhere."

"Ugh...how do you expect me to do that dumbass."

Mordecai was muttering angrily and still trying to shrug off the pain. Mordecai held tears in his eyes. Why did they have to do that? They coulda just put the freaking cast on!

"M-Mordecai?"

Mordecai's eyes widened at the voice.

"Benson?"

Benson smiled at Mordecai, but his grin quickly wiped away and replace with a sorrowful and pouting face with many pleas for forgiveness. Mordecai smiled at his.

"It's alright. Wait...what are you doing here?"

Benson looked down, ashamed. He sighed and showed Mordecai his stitched and bandaged wrists. Mordecai gasped.

"What happened!"

Benson felt embarrassed as he explained to Mordecai it was a failed attempt at suicide. Mordecai felt his guilt overpower him. He tried actual suicide when he left? Mordecai thought even more about him leaving. He shouldn't have left. Mordecai should be the only one here. Benson shouldn't be in the bed beside him with stitched wrists. Mordecai used both hands to force himself to his feet, wincing in pain at his re-broken wrist bending back. He limped over to Benson and dropped to his knees.

"I'm sorry Benson. I shouldn't have left. Please don't drink or do drugs. It's doing things to you I don't like."

Benson refused to cry. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around Mordecai, pulling him as close as humanly possible. Both of them showed much joy in their reunion. The doctor came in and ruined the moment.

"You moved! You weren't supposed to move!"

"Look, I'm sorry I moved. I had to see my friend."

"Well it's a shame you moved. We'll have to re-re-break your arm."

Mordecai's eyes went wide. No! Not the re-breaking! It hurt like fucking HELL! Mordecai sighed and trudged over to the bed and flopped down.

"Let's just get this over with..."

"Okay. Here we go."

Mordecai squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain. He heard Benson's voice float to his side of the room, but Mordecai didn't bother to make out what he was saying. Suddenly a warm thing slipped into Mordecai's hand and squeezed it lightly. Mordecai opened his eyes. Benson was beside him, squeezing his hand with a small weak smile. Mordecai weakly smiled in return. Mordecai felt his wrist twist and his screams once again filled the room.

Empty promises. Benson promised he was going to try and quit, but since Mordecai left, he got even more addicted. What if he couldn't go back now. Benson felt so guilty, but his thoughts kept fading from being high and buzzed. Benson couldn't help it. It was overpowering him. Benson tried to do it secretly for Mordecai's sake. But what about other people? What if-...and his thoughts completely faded. Benson spent hours doing the same old routine he got into. Benson leaned back and released a cloud of smoke, attempting to make a ring. The door swung open.

"BEANTON!"

Benson was unaffected from the sudden harsh voice. Benson couldn't even concentrate on anything. He just pulled the cigarette filled with weed to his lips and inhaled and exhaled a perfect ring.

"Bean bag! What the hell! You can't do this here! I should have you arrested for possessing illegal drugs!"

"Shut up, I don't give a fuck."

"What did you just say?"

"I don't give a fuck."

"I WILL HAVE YOUR JOB IF YOU DON'T STOP!"

"And who's gonna make me?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said who's. Gonna. Make. Me? In case your deaf, here's a visual."

Benson stood, pulling the knife from his desk. Mr. Maellard shuddered. He was bluffing. He had to be. Benson wouldn't really do that...would he?

"Are you deaf?"

Mr. Maellard was a bit intimidated by the knife. He swallowed the growing amount of fear down to have enough strength to say.

"You're bluffing."

Benson grinned wickedly.

"I'm glad you said that."

Benson stepped closer.

"You've been bitching about everything. You are such a priss, you are an idiot because you think EVERYTHING has to revolve around you! You work me harder than anyone and what do I get? More of your pointless bitching because you're so lazy you yell at me cause you don't even know how to run a business! You don't know anything about how it's supposed to be! GO BACK TO PRESCHOOL WITH THOSE BRATS YOU ACT LIKE! Or rather, go to hell, either way is punishment."

"Beantean! I forbid you to come closer! I'll have your sorry ass fired!"

Benson tackled Maellard to the ground and sat on top of him, the knife held high. Benson was about to bring it down, and Maellard caught a strange sight. Benson's eyes flashed. Not the kind like shining a flashlight into them and seeing its reflection, but rather, like someone flashed one out of his eyes. Benson's eyes glowed yellow for a brief second before fading back to blue. Also, Maellard could've sworn he saw Benson's teeth become sharper for a brief second. Maellard was so caught up in his observations, Benson swung the knife down and sliced off Maellard's Hand. Maellard screamed as the blood sprayed the walls. Benson raised the knife and proceeded to slash up his boss. Maellard was bleeding so badly, it wouldn't take much more to make him pass out. Benson gleefully grinned and evilly laughed. He took the knife and dug it into Maellard's eye, getting underneath and slicing the cord, forcing the eye out. Maellard screamed bloody murder, but unfortunately, everyone was outside and far enough away from the house that no one could hear. Benson picked up the eye.

"Eat it."

"Wh-what?"

"I SAID EAT IT!"

Maellard looked at his bloody, wet eye. Benson was forcing him to eat his own eye. What was wrong with Benson? How sick!

"I-I'd rather not..."

"I'm not asking you GODDAMMIT IM TELLING YOU! EAT IT!"

And with that, Benson jammed Maellard's eyes into his mouth and Maellard struggled to spit it out, but Benson's hand was preventing that. Maellard had no choice but to...swallow...ew... Maellard did what he was told. The eye tasted a bit salty and slimy and it squished horribly. Maellard wanted to throw up. Benson grinned again and his hands went to Maellard's pants.

"Woah! What are you doing BeanBag!"

Benson yanked Maellard's pants down and rose the knife up. He brought it down and Maellard felt the shearing pain down below. Benson held up Maellard's balls and showed them to his face.

"You don't deserve these."

"Beantan...what made you insane..."

"For one thing, the names Benson you fucktard. Get it right!"

Maellard felt the knife stabbing through his stomach, his guts spilling and blood spraying and oozing.

"And one more thing..."

Benson leaned down to Maellard's ear and whispered,

"You're fired."

Craaaaaap I'm a horrible writer! This story is probably getting even more worse as it goes on. First off, this chappie seems a lil short. Second, I'm jumping into even more than I should at this time. Third, I just suck at this. Sorry...


	5. Liar Liar

Benson giggled. Not the way a little kid would, but rather, an evil man. Benson laughed and laughed. He even got down on the floor and rolled in the blood of his former boss while singing happily.

"Blood! Blood! Bloooood!"

Benson even made a blood angel. Benson got up to look at it, and his face contorted in disgust, before turning to a small smirk.

"Where's your angel now?"

Benson used his fingers and smeared out the angel. Suddenly a voice shouted at him.

"Benson! What did you do?"

Benson looked to the source of the voice. Mordecai was by the door, holding back the vomit that threatened to join the blood on the floor. Benson smugly grinned at Mordecai.

"One more sacrifice and I'll be free..."

Mordecai heard Benson's voice change. Not like a pitch, but a whole entirely new voice. He sounded like a demon. Benson's eyes glowed yellow and didn't fade back.

"Get out...get out...GET OUT!"

Mordecai became nervous, he could now see Benson's sharp teeth. Mordecai rushed over to Benson and slapped him as hard as he could. Benson flew back into the desk and slammed down. Mordecai bit back a wince at what he had done. Benson's head slowly rose. Benson lightly shook his head. His eyes faded back to blue and his teeth dulled a little.

"Oww...what was that for?"

"Dude! You murdered Mr. Maellard!"

"I what!"

"Dude, l-luh-ugh...look..."

Benson looks down. He was covered in blood again and he saw Maellard's mutilated corpse in front of him. Benson groaned.

"Why is this happening to me? What's happening to me?"

Mordecai couldn't take it any more. He finally fell to his knees, holding his stomach, losing his lunch in the blood. Mordecai wasn't in the mood for dinner. Benson was still staring at his hands, his memories coming back. Mordecai held his cramping stomach.

"Where are his eyes?"

Benson shuddered.

'EAT IT...!'

Benson felt chills go down his back from the thought of himself saying that.

'Im not asking you GODDAMMIT IM TELLING YOU! EAT IT!'

Benson moaned

'Nonononono this didn't happen. This never happened. This has to be some sick prank someones pulling. This can't be real. I just hope I'll wake up from this nightmare.'

"I...he...I forced him to eat them."

That was it, Mordecai threw up again.

"Ugh...how can we cover this one up?"

"I'll take the body, you clean the blood."

Mordecai nodded and immediately got to work.

Benson had a hard time dragging Maellard's heavy corpse outside. Thankfully it was dark and A reasonable time for this. Benson poured the remains into a pile of wood be created and pulled out his lighter. He set fire to the body and watched it burn. Benson watched, frightened. He wasn't frightened by the fact he killed someone. He was frightened by the fact that he ENJOYED killing. Benson sat and watched until the remains were unrecognizable, but he still stayed. Thankfully the stench of rotting meat went away, leaving Benson in the clean, fresh outdoor air.

"Good evening Benson!"

Benson jumped at the voice and quickly turned around. Pops! Crap!

"Uh, g-guh-good eve-n-ngh-ning t-tuh you too."

"Oh my, are you cold Benson? You're shivering terribly."

Benson realized he was, in fact, shivering. Damn, he was so scared.

"Yeah! Th-that's why. That's k-kuh-kinda w-why I muh-made the f-fire. Want to join?"

Benson wished us could take back the last thing he said. Pops gleefully accepted. Benson inwardly face-palmed himself. Pops sat down and stared into the fire.

"You know, my papa always said that when you stare deep enough into fires, they show you something. He also told me not to get too close or I'd fall in."

Benson felt his eyes sting and his stomach turn. He couldn't tell Pops what he had done to his father. Pops would be devastated! Benson never wanted to be the one to make Pops cry. Pops was so kind and sweet, and Benson wanted to keep it that way. He didn't want to see Pops get sad, but Benson knew he couldn't hide it forever. Speaking of hiding it forever, apparently he couldn't hide it for five minutes. Pops suddenly screamed. Benson jumped at the suddenness of Pops's notion.

"P-papa?"

Oh oh...

Benson sprinted through the halls and slammed the door to his office behind him, breathing heavily. Mordecai jumped, letting out a screech and dropped the rag he was using.

"I SPILLED KOOL-AID!"

"What?"

"Oh thank GOD it's you..."

The "Houston, we have a problem" quote could have come up at the moment.

"Mordecai, I didn't hide it well enough."

"What? Who saw?"

"I-."

Pops rushing down the halls and crying cut Benson off. Mordecai was in terror. Pops found out. Then the police would eventually find out because Pops would cry to everyone and they would call the police. They would check for fingerprints and trace it to Benson. And-oh, wait a minute. Benson didn't have fingerprints. Duh! He was a gumball machine for crying out loud. Gumball machines don't have fingerprints, but still with the police here they would both be on edge. Benson's stomach twisted up like a pretzel and his heart jumped to his throat, skipping a beat every so often. Benson was worried his heart would explode from adrenaline, but then again Benson would be more than happy to die. He just wanted this to end. Mordecai finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence.

"You're lucky I'm a good lier."

Pops sobbed. His Papa's head? In the backyard? It was almost like he was still there, whispering words of comfort to him like he rarely did. Through rarity Pops always remembered every good thing his father said. Pops was always the kind of person to see the good in people, never the bad. No matter how evil, he always saw...SOMETHING good.

"Pops, did I scare you?"

Pops looked to the doorframe, startled.

"What?"

"Remember when you saw your fathers head?"

"yes?"

"Well I was practicing on making a mask for Halloween. I was trying to make it look exactly like Mr. Maellard. I guess it worked too well."

"How fascinating! What about the blood?"

"Fake."

"Wow! It looked just like papa. Do you think when he visits you can show him?"

Mordecai cringed at those words, but he swallowed the guilt and lied some more.

"Sure, I will."

"Good show! Jolly good show!"

Pops giggled and skipped away, wiping the tears. Mordecai sighed in partial relief. Now how was he gonna keep this secret from Pops?


End file.
